h a
patched |head and a life and death story to be added to the sunny
cabinet in the bungalow. . . . Carlin rose to lead them to dinner at
last, but Malcolm shook his head.

"On you go, you two. I'll sit out a bit in the lamplight, just here by
the playhouse door. . . . She'll be looking for him soon. . . . She
won't be far. She won't be long coming--to look for him. . . . She'd
find him and then set out to look for you, Lad."

The lights of the bungalow windows were like vague cloths upon the
lawn. . . . Carlin and Skag hadn't thought of dinner. They were in
the shadow of the deep verandah. Once Carlin whispered:

"I loved the way he said 'Lad' to you."

It was hours afterwards that the shot was heard. . . . Carlin was
closer. He felt her shivering. He could not be sure of the words, yet
the spirit of them never left his heart:

"If I were she--and I had found you so--upon the lawn--I should want
Hand-of-a-God to wait for me--like that!"

CHAPTER XI

_Elephant Concerns_

"Only the altogether ignorant do not know that the women of my line
have been chaste."

It was the youngest mahout of the Chief Commissioner's elephant
stockades of Hurda, who spoke.

They sat in comfort under the feathery branches of tall tamarisk trees,
smoking their water-pipes, after the sunset meal. It was the time for
talk.

"A good beginning," said a very old man near by, "it being wise, in
case of doubt, to stop the mouth of--who might speak afterward."

"And the men of my line," proceeded the youngest mahout, without
embarrassment, "have been illustrious--save those who are forgotten.
They all have been of High Himalaya; yet I am the least among you. I
render homage of Hill blood, hot and full, to every one of you--my
elders--because you are all mahouts of High Himalaya, even as my
fathers were."

The men of the stockades bowed their heads in grave acknowledgment.

"Then by what curse of what gods falls this calamity," the boy went on,
"that we of the Chief Commissioner's stockades are forced to receive a
mahout from the Vindha Hills; and an unreputed elephant--from the hills
without repute?"

"Softly, young one, softly!" a mahout in his full prime made swift
answer. "Truly it is well the young are not permitted to use that
untamed strength in speech, which is best governed by the waste of
sinew!"

The youngest mahout bent his head in humility and said with soft
reverence:

"Will he who is most wis